


Holla Die Waldfee

by ThalassicThedes (50niftiesus)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fairytale-ish?, M/M, Magic, Supernatural Elements, minimal pining, possibly smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 23:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19306084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50niftiesus/pseuds/ThalassicThedes
Summary: So essentially, Patrick is a common foot soldier in a war against magical and mythical creatures and Jonny is a fairy guardian of the enchanted forest.





	Holla Die Waldfee

**Author's Note:**

> Jon’s name isn’t explicitly said in the first half since everyone human just refers to him as a beast or a demon.
> 
> And yes, Jon is maleficent inspired.
> 
> Hope y’all enjoy this thing that was supposed to be posted in spring.

Patrick was scarcely a man when he was called away from his family’s cottage by the King’s Men to fight some evil force of darkness residing in the moors. His sisters were all jealous, he’d get to see the royal palace up close. He didn’t. Instead he was immediately shown to the barracks where he was given ill fitted armor, likely previously owned by some poor bastard who faced the demon before him, and spent the night with his bunk mate’s stinky feet in his face. 

The King declared that should his battalion succeed, they were all to be generously rewarded. So at least there was that incentive. 

Patrick hadn’t cared for whatever lurked beyond the enchanted woods. No harm ever came from it. The King was fear mongering his own subjects for his own fear at something more powerful than he; something that he cannot control. 

The march towards the moors edge was long and tiring. Fighting a malevolent spirit should not be so dull. 

When they arrived, something awaited to greet them.

Patrick could not see much for he was a head shorter than most of the men who were positioned before him. He heard murmurs, “Does that man have antlers? Is that a bunny rabbit beside him? What use is a bunny rabbit? Maybe he’ll bite it’s head off and use it’s blood to summon the Old Gods.” But then a different voice cut through and rang deep with command, “Leave here and no one will die.”

Commander Earwynd replied, “Surrender demon, and die with your dignity. Our people are not safe for as long as you still draw breath.” 

“Have it your way, commander.” 

Patrick saw trees grow impossibly taller as the men around him charged forward with their battle cries. He couldn’t believe the moment was here. He was not prepared to fight magical beasts from a demon’s hand. The trees had grown legs and grazed the men before them like wheat fields. It was an awful, gory sight once the tree roots sprouted through the vulnerable crevices of the armor and swelled until the iron plates popped off. Then vines whipped flesh from bone and blood sprayed through the air like a particularly heavy mist.  


The men who were sunk and swallowed whole by the soil were given more mercy.

Patrick had tripped on a root and had his helm flung off.

His vision was a blur of red, green, and the occasional chrome shine of polished armor.

He heard a swoosh and felt wind gusts tangle his hair when a large shadow casted over him. He looked to the sky in wonderment and terror at the creature in the sky. It was a handsome youth with large wings like a bird of prey and antlers that resembled tree branches. The creature’s black eyes met his and Patrick cowered before again tripping and crawling backwards away from the winged thing.

Patrick pleaded for his life with tears running down his cheeks, “No! Please do not eat me! I will not fight you!” 

He’d half expected it to swallow him whole, but it’s shadow cast over him and flew away.

Patrick had thanked good fortune for the brief blessing before running away as other soldiers had. With the whole battalion retreating, it’s a good thing he won’t be accused of desertion. He ran straight for town after seeing more tree men uprooted and bashed helmets.

His lungs were on fire and he felt fit to cough them out. He probably cleared the equivalent of his Lord’s crop field about six times over. When Patrick finally reached town, he dunked his head into a trough on the side of the road and drank his fill of water and horse spit. 

He sold his armor to a blacksmith and had it melted down. Patrick kept a single necklace chain for safekeeping. With his newly acquired funds he stayed at an inn. When he supped he learned the fate of the remaining more stubborn of the King’s soldiers; they were slaughtered. 

Gutted like pigs by roots.

The townsfolk were calling it, “The Great Moors Massacre,” wherein their brothers, fathers and sons were axed by trees. It was a tragedy that could’ve been avoided. Except now after what has come to pass, the people only grew more frantic. 

It appeared the King was right about the monster in the moors. 

He fed on their blood and fears. It wouldn’t be long before the winged beast ate them all. 

And so they supported their King’s latest motion in gathering troops from a neighboring kingdom. He was to barter off his daughter to their crown prince as he had not much else to offer. Though no one has seen the princess since she was born. 

Patrick’s thoughts were focused on trying to get back home, and forgetting what he’d just lived through. The simple, thoughtless work of picking crops seemed a sanctuary compared to what he was dragged by the King’s Men to witness. 

His initial plan was to walk onto the main road that led to the markets and hope to fetch a ride on a wagon transporting goods, but then he remembered the markets were closed due to the war. And wagons only arrived at his lord’s farms during harvest. They had just harvested the wheat crop from winter last new moon. He’d have to stay in town until the spring crop harvest in three moon cycles. 

So this left him with no other choice but to travel home by foot. 

He was set to leave before the break of day and cover the most of ground in the cool morning before finding shade and waiting out the sun’s peak. He never faired well in the heat. Patrick packed a meal in a handkerchief of two boiled eggs, dry meat, and just to treat himself, some honeycakes from a local baker. When the housemaiden offered two spend the night for two silvers, Patrick bashfully declined and slept some short hours alone before his journey the next morning.

Patrick woke the next morning with a crink in his neck, but that could be ignored. He walked out the door coated in the pale blue light of the sky a the precipice of a new dawn. He cleared a field opposite the battleground and trudged his boots through the soggy bog floor. In the cover of weeping willows he sought out a trail that might lead him to a road home. Patrick pulled a dinner knife taken from the inn and mark the trees he passed by. It felt like hours later when he realised he’d passed the same mushroom patch three times. He was going in circles, but his treemarkers were all gone. 

He cried out in frustration,“What the bloody shit is this trickery?!”

In the distance he heard some trees rustle and some crows crow.

“A sour tongue, have you?”

Patrick froze. Hairs stood behind his neck.

Something heavy dropped behind him.

“Little one, I don’t think your mother raised you to speak so low.” 

“I am not a child,” was all he thought to say. 

There was a sound of wings fluttering. 

“You certainly look lost like one.”

“That’s because I am lost.”

A foot shuffled, “I wonder why is that?”

“The marks I left on the trees keep disappearing.”

They huffed amusedly, “That’s because they’re enchanted, silly.”

Patrick’s expression became colorless, “And may I ask, who are you?”

“I am the guardian of this great forest and all who reside in it.”

Patrick cleared his throat, “And may I ask another question?”

“That in of itself is already another question, but sure. You may.”

“Do you have wings?”

He heard a violent fluttering of feathers and saw small brown and gold plumes cascading around him.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then turn around”

Patrick shook his head, “I’m afraid of what I’ll see.”

“Turn around and I’ll help you find your way.”

“I think I’d rather walk back into town.”

“You don’t know your way back into town.”

Whenever Patrick felt stuck, his chest would tighten and his breath quickened as it did now.

“Are you alright, little one?”

The creature sensed his fear. He was doomed.

“No,” he hiccuped.

The creature spun him around with strong arms. It now held him by the shoulders. Patrick refused to look back into those eyes.

The creature gripped his chin and tilted his face up, “No tears.” It’s fingers wiped the wetness away. “For someone who claims not to be one, you sure do cry as much as a child.” 

Patrick reluctantly flashed his eyes open to glare at the beast.

“There we are. As clear as a summer’s sky,” it smiled.

The smile was the third thing you noticed after the eyes and antlers.

“If you are going two drain me of my blood and strip me of my flesh, may I please eat my cake first? I’d rather not leave this world without them.”

The demon’s dark eyes widened excitedly, “You have cake?”

Patrick frowned, “Only two bundts.”

The creature looked around both ways before meeting Patricks eyes, “Walk with me.”

Patrick dug his feet into the ground, “No.”

The beast had the audacity to roll it’s black eyes, “Well if you won’t walk with me…”

Patrick felt the ground pulled from beneath him. He screamed.

Just as soon as he was lifted up, he was set gently down.

“I can’t believe you got the rare chance to fly and you chose to just scream and shut your eyes.”

Patrick stood on a clover patch next to a pond. Then he had to double check and make certain he was not simply imagining things. There were more magical creatures. They came in the form of stumbling trolls and pixies the size of fireflies. All at work, keeping the forest enchanted. 

“Before you ask, the elves are busy forging trinkets. Completely useless, but they’ve perfected it to an art.”

Patrick turned to the beast to find him observing the other creatures proudly. 

“I’d like to go home, Mr. Demon, sir.”

The creature looked stricken, “I am not a demon, or whatever your King declares me to be. I am a fairy, and guardian of the moors.”

“I’d still like to go home,” Patrick crossed his arms defensively. “Unless you plan on eating me.”

The “fairy” was offended further, “I’d rather eat your cake.”

Patrick sat cross legged on the clovers and unwrapped his handkerchief and pulled out one bundt of honeycake. He offered it up to the beast. “Have at it. I want out of here.”

The fairy scoffed, “So rare for mortal men to make it this deep into the enchanted woods and you don’t care.”

Patrick still offered the cake in his hand, “On the contrary, it’s beautiful here. Like a dream realm. But I’ve seen your tree men slaughter my countrymen so no matter how you present yourself, I still know the darkness of your deeds.”

The fairy sat before him and took the cake from his hands, “The King ordered those men to their deaths, I offered them peace. He wants to see me dead and this sacred land unprotected. Magical creatures will either be enslaved or killed. We fight for our way of life.”

Patrick peeled one of his eggs and bit into it, “Why would the King want you dead if not to protect his people?” 

The fairy made a face, “Whatever that is, it stinks. Your King wants to level forest and plant crops to feed his armies, he wants the elves to make him enchanted weapons. He wants the world to kneel before him. I stand in the way of that. We creatures have never interfered with humans, nor do we want to; you’re all half insane. But when man learns of a new power, they want to wield it.”

“Well I guess it’s you and the King’s business. I want to go home.”

It tilted it’s head curiously, “If you care so little. Why are you here?”

Patricked breathed, “I was taken from home and was fitted armor to fight.”

The fairy’s wings bunched, “You were on the fields yesterday?”

Patrick nodded slowly, “You looked into my eyes and flew right over me.”

The creatures gasp all around them.

“But you’re just a boy.”

Patrick felt his cheeks enflame. “I am a man!” His voice cracked pathetically.

The winged fiend unfolded his legs from their crossed position and drew up his knees to hug them. He swallowed, “You fought against us.” The blackness of his eyes now held fog, followed by cloud formations and flashes that could only be lightening. “You serve that evil man.”

The surrounding environment had lost all warmth. The magical creatures scurried off to shelter. A mist spread through the woods and suddenly it was a cloud of white surrounding him and the beast. 

Patrick should’ve played the role of a wide eyed child, maybe then the creature would’ve sent him off wrong direction or not. Forever adrift seemed more pleasant than being swallowed into whatever hell the demon harbored. 

The creature stood tall, looming over him. “Convince me not to kill you,” it said as the gold left his complexion and left his skin a pale shimmer.

Tree roots wrapped around his arms and held him to the ground. Patrick felt his heart drop and his body was filled with dread. 

“Don’t you folk usually bargain?” He stuttered.

“Well you already ate your other honeycake. What could you possibly have to offer?”

Patrick thought quickly, “I promise not to lift another sword against your… friends?”

“Wards,” it corrected.

“Sorry,” Patrick scurried to throw his necklace chain at it after nearly pulling his arms off their sockets from pulling free from the roots, “You can have this too!”

The demon caught the chain mid air and dropped it as though it burned them.

“Arghh!” The creature wailed and shook its arm wildly.

Apparently the necklace did burn it.

The creature’s narrowed into him in outrage and anger. Patrick nearly soiled himself right then and there. 

“Are you trying to kill me?!” 

In fairness, the creature had every right to ask. But how was he to know a weak chain of iron was able to cause the beast harm?

“No I swear!”

The creature leaned forward and threateningly spread out his wings.

Patrick flinched, “That chain is what’s left of my armor. I sold it and told the black smith to make a keepsake.”

“Memories of the creatures you slaughtered?”

Patrick didn’t dare look.

“You saw me run away! As if we were any match to your sorcery!”

“Hmph,” was all the devil said.

And then, “Look at me boy.”

Patrick trembled as he did what he was bid.

The creature made a show of pulling a sparkling crimson vile from a hidden pocket of his shirt. He unstoppered the vile and bent slightly to sprinkle its contents onto Patrick’s iron chain. Patrick frowned at the smoke it released.

“You’re witnessing a chemical reaction,” said the beast.

And Patrick’s eyes grew wide when his dull iron chain glinted gold.

“Dragon’s blood can turn even stone into gold.” 

“That’s incredible,” he said in breathless awe. 

When Patrick again looked toward the creature he found a soft smile upon his face, “Now I can touch it.”

It picked up the now gold necklace and motioned for Patrick to bend his head. 

“Allow me,” it said.

Patrick was too shocked to remember his distrust of the beast. He bent his head and felt the warm weight fall around his neck.

Suddenly, he had a new sense of gratitude, “Th-thank you, sir.”

It lifted a brow unimpressed, “Right. You know you’re lucky the pagans didn’t get a hold of you. You are quite pretty. They’d sacrifice you to the Old Gods without hesitation, as is their way.”

Patrick paled, “People still believe in the Old Gods?”

The creature nodded, “Yes, they don’t believe that they’ve died long ago. Though long gone they are.”

“Do you know what happened to them?” He asked from plaguing curiosity.

“A battle had been fought that had long been prophesied by the Old Gods; the battle between them and the Giants over the fate of the humanity. It left the earth a wreck and the Old Gods and Giants were no more. The Old Gods were of the elements, the New Gods are of man, the children of the Olds.” 

“Oh,” was all he had in response.

“You want to know something, young man?” He dug his toes into the dirt beneath him, “What gave the soil your lot farms on fertility and fruitfulness is the ancient rot of Gods.” The creature nodded to the sky, “Yep.”

Patrick did not think he needed such knowledge. 

“And where’d you acquire dragon’s blood if they too are long gone?”

He and the creature met gazes, “Only one remains. And she’s in a dormant state. Sleeping till the next battle I suppose. She bleeds every new moon.”

“Another one?!”

The creature dared to laugh, “Yes? The history of humanity is in cycles. This is bound to be by the stars.”

“And what of the earth and those who live on it?”

“Only your children will survive to be raised by either the giants or the newer Gods. Depends who wins.”

“Excuse my tongue, but that is fucked”

The creature was shocked and his shoulders shook from his laughter. “Indeed it is, little one. Hopefully you won’t be involved by the time it comes.” 

He had a very princely smile despite the pointy teeth.

Patrick gulped, “What will you do with me now mister demon, sir?”

The demon set its hands on its hips, “I suppose I’ll send you home. Since you’re a coward and not Kings Men sent to kill me.”

Patrick took offense, but was cut off before he could retort.“Cowards are smart, they can sense danger. You’d rather live long a coward than die young an idiot,” said the creature.

It snapped its fingers,“Walk with me.” 

This time Patrick’s feet obeyed the command before he could think of it.

“Now stay to my right as we walk past this small creek up ahead… Careful of the moss on these rocks lest you slip and break a hip.”

Patrick walked along and thought to avoid slipping on the wet rocks by stepping onto the more cushioned looking foliage on the ground at the mouth of the the creek. He took one first step...

“Thanks for the cake!” Was all he heard before the rush of water filled his ears. 

Then he’d thought of every curse word imaginable and aimed at that trickster devil. Now he was going to die in an enchanted forest. But then as soon as he relaxed and surrendered to his fate, he found himself floating to the top.

His head breached the surface and he was in a different waterhole entirely. It was the small lake with a river tail that lead to the farm his family resided at. The demon sent him through a portal. They took him home after all. 

Patrick pulled his chain from beneath his wet shirt. The necklace was still gold. It shimmered even brighter under the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t go into detail on a lot of creatures cause I was lazy so feel free to use your imagination cause they all live there.


End file.
